Reborn
by The real SpamSite
Summary: One shot about an old man being reborn as Harry.


I read plenty of stories about reincarnation into other worlds more interesting than this one for some reason or another. I even liked the concept, since I was not religious and death is not my idea of a happy end. That didn't mean I believed in any of it. Not until it happened to me anyway.

I have grown old and sick. Both physically and of life in general. Most people become tired of life when even the slightest efforts drain them, when pain is constant and it will only get worse before the end. By my death I was 87. I'm not even sure what was it that finally did me in. Too many possibilities. Doesn't matter anyway I suppose. Not now.

Anyhow I was reborn. Into Harry motherfucking Potter. Since my rebirth, I've been trying to forget my birth, trying really hard. Besides disgusting you with the gory details there's not much to tell anyway. Not about that. So, we're just going to skip that part and move on.

My new father was immature. Nothing unexpected, but even with baby vision I could see he was faking a good bit of his cheer. War does that to people. He was more inclined to play with me than take care of me. Mother was around for that. Only when she was tired did he pitch in.

Of course, in my attempt to be discreet, I made sure to defecate (poop for you uncultured swines) regularly without any attempt of self control. There were a few other disgusting things that came with being a baby. Like vomit! My digestive system was still sensitive. Most of my days passed in a disgusting and degrading manner while leaving me with plenty of time to think and a great need for sleep. Luckily for me old age already prepared me for that. At least now I can look forward to growing out of it.

My new mother was...hovering. I'm not sure what, but something about me unsettles her. It is clear to me that my attempts at impersonating a baby have fallen short of actual baby behaviour. Now that I think about it I never was much of an actor. I could lie well enough, but pretending to be in awe of everything like babies are was just too annoying. Maybe that was what bugged her. She didn't say so I can't know for sure.

I spent most of my days just chillin' an' relaxin' an' trying to regain basic hand eye coordination. From my new wondrous powers, nada. I remember the books mentioning the need for extreme emotion for magic to show itself. My most extreme emotions were annoyance and boredom. In that order. What? You didn't think only being able to wiggle about and soil myself would be an exciting new experience, did you?

Time passed and our home was graced with visitors. Three of them, though I was expecting another three. Two remaining decent marauders and one witch called Elisabeth something. Nicknamed Liz. Mom Lily's friend apparently. She was a surprise, but a mild one. In fact, everything about her was mild. From her reactions to whatever subject was being discussed, to the jokes and her appearance. I was not sure she would be much of use in the war. Then again, it's not like I'm any better.

After some more time, it came to my attention that my new parents were trying to get me to talk. In fact they were being quite annoying about it. Each saying 'mommy' or 'daddy' again and again all bloody day long. On one rainy Tuesday, then again it's almost always raining here, I gave in. In the soggy country of England I (currently Harry Potter) was going to say my first word.

Come on Harry, say mommy, mommmy, moooommmmmyyyyyy" Lily kept at her campaign to get me to speak. To make it more convincing I had to struggle with the word. So I played my part.

"mmmMMm" I said with a look of concentration on my face as if I was about to defecate again.

"good now oooooo"

"oOOooo"

"now mmoo"

"mmMoo"

"mmoomm, come one honey, you can do it." She said excitedly

That's when the last marauder came in. Peter the betrayer. I had grown fond of my new family. It's hard not to like someone who shows you unconditional love. So when I saw Peter for the first time my emotions went wild for a moment. It was enough for my magic to activate for the first time. Oddly enough it came with a flashback of my teen years of playing the game 'Call of Duty' more than strictly healthy. This all happened in an instant. I glared as harshly as a baby can and yelled at the top of my lungs for the first time in this life. Aided by magic I was loud enough to shatter the window glass and make the house vibrate.

 _ **"Feind gesichtet! Auf diese sowjetischen Bastarde feuern!"**_

Then there was silence. A long awkward silence. This was my first word/sentence. This was my case of accidental magic.


End file.
